Of John and Sherlock
by PWPwithapurpose
Summary: Sometimes, its the short moments in life that make up oyr greatest memories. Join Sherlock and John in their romantic firsts, their debauched encounters, racy moments and everthing in between. Read and Review please. one shot suggestions welcome :)


Hi Guys.

This is my first time in the Johnlock fandom so bear with me okay? :) id appreciate any tips offered in a friendly way because lord knows i'll need them.

This is going to be a collection of one shots (some 2 or 3 shots) between John and Sherlock. Itll be a collection of their firsts and their other decidedly encounters. I'm taking requests too so hopefully I come up not disappointing you guys. After all, we all deserve some Johnlock naughtiness now and then ;)

Happy Reading!

 **Chapter 1: Sometimes, Actions Speak Louder Than Words**.

It was one of those phases again.

 _"Sometimes I don't talk for days on end. Would that bother you?"_

Despite the warning, John hadn't taken the Consulting Detective literally, assuming it to be physically impossible for someone as chatty and quite frankly vain as Sherlock to keep quiet for long.

He'd given it a couple of hours at best. Yet here he was.

It had been 3 days since John had last heard Sherlock speak. The dark haired man had just finished up on a rather peculiar case - even by Sherlock's standards. A case of a gay man being killed by his own mother for reasons that were as of yet entirely confusing to John. But that hadn't been the only confounding part of the case. Sherlock had started staring at John. For longer than necessary. Staring in itself wasn't strange for Sherlock, it was the uniformity with which Sherlock tended to direct those stares at him.

it started with a general glance in his direction after coming home the day they discovered the victim's sexual preferences. Sherlock had briefly asked his opnion on the matter.

"What do you think John?"

"What, about the case?"

"Naturally." He spoke in a tone that dictated the distaste witg which he regarded the banality of John's question. John rolled his eyes and shrugged.

"Er. I dunno. What a bloke does with his ...parts.. isn't exactly my business is it?"

"Yes but what do you think of it?"

"Nothing wrong with being gay i suppose. Love's love. Can't very well choose who it decides to fall for." John went back to preparing dinner, missing the look of sudden clarity in Sherlock's eyes. He got up, grabbing his jacket and scarf, looping it around his neck as he ran down stairs, yelling his response back to John.

"Oh John. I supose it isn't your fault you were born with the brain of a half wit. Don't you see? Its all so clear!" John whirled around to see the man in question had disappeared and ran to peer down the stair case as he caught sight of Sherlock's coat swirlimg out of the front door.

The berking mad man had left him behond again.

"Hey - hang on! Half wi- SHERLOCK BLOODY HOLMES COME BACK HERE THIS INSTANT YOU GIT!"

That had been three days ago. They'd discovered the mother had slipped arsenic into the boy's food one small amount at a time. She couldnt risk the public degradation that would come with a Homosexual son and even worse an affair her sister's closet homosexual husband.

Since then, Sherlock would follow John without actually moving. The first day he sat in his Great White Sheet - as John called it - and just observed John puttering about the house on his rare day off from the clinic. Finally John had had enough. He turned around, wiping his hands on a dish cloth and asked him point blank.

"What could you possibly be looking at Sherlock?"

He recieved no answer for his troubles and just sighed.

Sometimes he honestly wondered if the man weren't half mental already.

The second day Sherlock remained in his Sheet but now had resorted to following John around, hovering in his personal space close enough for John to be fed up when cooking dinner.

" Enough Sherl - whoa! "John had stopped short at the close proximity of the detective to himself. He'd whirled himself around and come nose to nose with Sherlock, staring right into the brown eyes that Sherlock was using to obsere John's every movement.

It was thoroughly disconcerting, being watched.

John considered himself fairly straight, but these past few months living with the Consulting Detective had put a serious dent in his theories about his own sexual identity. He still didn't consider that he was gay, just maybe more susceptible to the idea than he'd originally thought. And possibly only for his mysterious roommate, though that was a thought best left untouched unless he wanted to sprout a raging hard on in front of the very man he fantasized about.

"Sherlock."

John had managed to emulate an even tone though he'd bet his life that his roomate had already seen through it.

"What. Are. You. Doing?"

He tried to enunciate clearly, making sure his breathing and gaze remained seemingly unaffected. As expected, all he recieved as an answer was a thoughtfull Hmm and then the enigmatic man had wandered back to his own chair. Leaving John to stand slightly breathless at the counter, willing himself to calm down.

Which brought him to today. Day 3 in whatever conundrum had so fully preoccupied Sherlock's mind. John sat in his chair opposite the detective who had graciously deigned to dress himself todsy in black trousers and that ridiculously tight purple shirt that John had always found himself dreaming of removing in various creative ways.

Suddenly realizing that day dreaming about Sherlock was sure to get himself discovered, John settled resolutely into his blogging, refusing to buoyed away by thoughts of the detective naked and hover - no. NO. Stop it right this instant John Hamish Watson. You are no longer a teenager with raging hormones. Do your roommate a courtesy and at least try to keep your erotic day dreams at bay until you are alone.

John sighed and raised his mug to his lips, typing the title into the blong entry.

"You want me to fellatate you."

Sherlock's even and calm voice broke the relative silence and John's throat suddenly felt constricted as he coughed and hacked, sputtering coffee every where, staring at Sherlock incredulously. The coffee mug clattered noisily to the floor, ignored in the verbal declaration Sherlock had just made.

The man in question stared back, inquisitively at John's reaction.

"I'm sorry, I could've sworn - sorry what did you just say?" John couldn't believe his ears. What the hell had possessed the man? He rubbed hisbhand through his blond hair, mussing it up. Sherlock snorted in amusement, he leaned his chin in his hand, resting on the arm of his chair.

"Oh come now John. You clearly heard what I said, why feign ignorance?"

"I'm not - you just - did you just tell me that I wanted you to blow me?" The doctor could nothing but gape at Sherlock, not a trace of humor or hesitance.

"You're serious? This isn't one of your barmy experiments is it? It better not be Sherlock, or Christ help me, I will - " John cut off abruptly as Sherlock rose from his seat in one fluid movement and trapped John in his chair, a hand resting on each arm of the chair. The look on Sherlock's eyes was indescribable. There was something almost hungry in them. It was the look of someone who had cornered his prey, and yet it was gentle as well. His haze searched John's face, as he finalky spoke again. His voice betraying none of what his eyes conveyed.

"Oh do be quiet John. You get so chatty when you're nervous."

"You just told me I wanted you to suck me you berk! So forgive me if i'm a little - mmmf!"

John gasped in his mouth as Sherlock cut him off, kissing him full on the mouth with crushing force. His laptop slipped off his lap and thudded to the floor as John was pressed back into his chair, melting into this kiss and realizing he was kissing Sherlock Holmes.

Suddenly his eyes flew open and he pushed the detective, turning his face away, catching his breath. He looked at the brunette who was panting and finally found his voice.

"Why are you doing this? You're kissing me." John found himself speaking almost like he was pleading. This was too much for him tolerate,if this turned out to be one of his bizarre experiments.

"I was kissing you." Sherlock corrected, now kneeling between John's legs. John hadn't even noticed when he'd opened them, he tried to close them only to have the Detective yank them back open. John swore for a second, that he sae Sherlock smirk as he ran his hands down John's thighs, towards the junction where they met and where a suspicious tent had set up.

"I afraid I can't have you do that John. Especially when you're like this." Sherlock palmed John's growing erection over his trousers. John gasped and almost bucked into the light touch.

"Wha-"

" I find myself to be quite overcome by sentiment John."

John looked at the man in front of him, bewildered.

" I knew you were attracted to me John, it was

obvious." John's cheeks warmed to a grievious shade of red as Sherlock continued.

"Despite all of your insistence that you were not gay, you showed a fascinating amount of interest in my physiology and further more your own physiological reaction to my physiology."

John sat in his chair, turning a disastarous color and sank back into his chair, until he noticed the detective's own rather large erection. He realized the detective wasn't as unaffected as he thought.

" I continued to observe youur reactions and catalogued them and realized you were particularly enamored by my mouth. Thus, the deduction that I should fellatat - mmf!"

Sherlock stumbled in his shock at being violebtky pulled into a kiss by the ex-army man sitting in front of him. It was decidedly different than the one Sherlock had just given, all lips and tongue, warmth and roughness, a quality than made up the very essence of the doctors existence.

Then John shifted under him

It was only then that he noticed the red complexion, and the press of something long and hard against his stomach.

"You berk." John muttered, half smiling, against his mouth in between sloppy kisses. " all you have to do is say three words. Three tiny little words: I love you."

It was as if the flood gates had opened in Sherlock after uttering those words because suddenly John was being dragged by the wrist into Sherlock's bedroom and slammed against the closed door, being kissed sensless, tongues colliding, intertwining and sucking, with his hands pinned by Sherlock's above his head as the other free hand wound into John's hair, pulling it to give the taller man better access to his neck.

Sherlock's lips traveled down from John's mouth to his jaw, down his throat and sucked hard at the junction of John's throat and neck, eliciting a delicious moan from the shorter man, causing his knees to nearly go weak from the pleasure.

Sherlock ripped his mouth from John's to fumble with John's clothes, nearly ripping them off in his haste and helping John's own fingers remove the shirt he wore.

They were almost too far apart from each other Sherlock decided and ground his painfully hard cock against John's clothed one. John threw his head back and groaned Sherlock's name in a way that sent all the blood in his veins to his dick, and he gasped, now doubly eager to get John's cock free of its restraints.

Sherlock yanked the remaiing clothing off of John and dropped to his knees in front of the doctor's crotch, nuzzling the whole length of John's impressive 8 inch cock. He stroked it from tip to root, taking in the organ in all its glory, a magnificent thing in it own right.

"Mmmmgh!"

He looked up at John, making eye contact as he engulfed John's cock in one fluid movement, taking as much of him as he could, letting John's rock hard cock hit the back of his throat.

"Ahhhh SHERLOCK. god dam - AH!"

John moaned, biting his fist. He could cum from the feel alone from the feel of Sherlock's hot wet and slick mouth encompassing his dick but as he did, John became painfully aware of an emptiness in him and realized what he wanted more than anything else.

"Please Sherlock."

John moaned out hoarsely, he honestly had no idea how much more of this he could take, he hadn't even known he could sound like that. He could feel the familiar tightning in his bollocks and knew it wouldn't be long.

"Fuck me Sherlock! Now!"

He bucked against the door, seriously contemplating impaling himself without preparation on the detective's cock with out further delay.

Sherlock froze at the sound of John's wanton plea. It released something almost primal within him and without warning Sherlock surged forward, shoving John to the bed and loomed over him, settling between his legs, working his way down his body, pausing to suck his hardned pink nipples into his mouth while John squirmed, gasped and arched beneath him. It only made Sherlock want to go harder,faster.;seeing that blonde hair flying in every direction, skin flushed pink and mouth parted in arousal.

Sherlock resumed his assault on John's nipples and trailed his fingers down John's aching shaft, pausng to caress his balls before delving to their real prize.

"I - oh - fuck Sherlock!" John cried, balling his fists in the sheets, arching his back, craving more contact.

Sherlock circled John's entrance making John moan. He let go of the pink bud he was working on with and vulgar pop and leaned over to reach for the lube he had bought just for this occasion. He bent kiss John once more as two fingers sank knuckles deep into the shorter blond man, eliciting a strangled yell, unprepared for this sudden onslaught of sensation.

Sherlock grabbed more lube and lubed himself up, while still finger fucking John, guiding the lubricant over his aching member, and then, without warning. Sherlock withdrew his fingers, and grabbed John's legs, throwing one over his shoulder, pressing the other one, bent, against John's chest, opening John to him entirely. Sherlock groaned John's name snapping his hips forwards with monsterous strength, unapolagetically.

" Fuck! JOHN. "

and buried himself to the hilt.

John yelled as Sherlock slammed his dick into him, the long thick length of his member threatening to tear John apart from the inside. Sherlock slid out again, leaving only the tip of his cock and thrust back in again so hard, the entire bed rocked, scraping against the wood floor and John let out a scream of pleasure, chanting his name.

"SherlocksherlockSherlockSherlockmmmmSHERLOCK!"

Above him, Sherlock's expression turned intense as he fucked him, the sweat beading on his face as he rammed himself into John's arse again and again, hitting that sweet spot with extreme precision until John thought he would go insane from the pressure building up inside him.

Then Sherlock went one step further and grabbed John's cocked and began to pump in earnest. Being fucked inside and out, John practically whimpered in arousal, writhing under the lithe body of Sherlock Holmes as the detective slammed hinself into the doctor, almost breaking him with each thrust, no care for the yells the man beneath him let out or the groans that spilled unbidden from his lips. He ran a finger roughly over the slit at the top of John's cock, spreading it lightly and hooked his arms under John's arms to pull him up and tongue fuck the man's mouth trying to convey the possessive emotions he was feeling.

With two more decisive thrusts, and a particularly telling, hard fist fucking of the doctor's dick, they came simultaneously. Streams of thick cum flew from John's cock as he felt himself being filled with the detective's cum, feeling it slowly drip out of his arse despite Sherlock's length still in him. John practically convulsed under Sherlock, eyes clenched shut, mouth open and body going limp.

Sherlock collapsed on top of John, still inside, languidly stroking his balls, preferring to go soft inside his newly christened lover.

"John."

"Mmm?"

"I believe the sentiment would dictate that I say, I'm exceedingly fond of you."

"Mnngh. I love you too you colossal berk."

A/N:

YES i know its a terrible start *_* its my first time writing a lemon :'(

PLEASE READ AND REVIEW :)


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